


Break

by lalejandra



Category: The OC RPF
Genre: Drugs, Gen, Transformative Works Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-17
Updated: 2004-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-14 11:21:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16039454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalejandra/pseuds/lalejandra





	Break

Ben is leaning on a bar stool, pretending to watch the steady stream of girls parading in front of him. When he catches Brody's eye, he cocks an eyebrow at him and walks out the back door. Brody ran a hand through his hair; he'll follow. They've got their own secret code; bat signals.

They've done this before, the two of them, because what the hell else is there to do? They've got girlfriends and best friends and careers rocketing sky high like in a crazy movie -- or a crazy television show -- but after a while the parties get kind of boring, and you've gotta find something else to keep you busy until the next one starts. Ben's done his share of partying -- it's not that he's not into it. But he already went to college, and he already did the frat party thing, and it was cool when he was twenty, and it's less cool now that he's twenty-six.

Adam gets it; it took Ben less than a day to decide that Brody, for all his flaws -- and there are _a lot_ of flaws -- is pretty much a cool guy. He's young and he goofs around on camera more than Ben ever would, but at least he's a good dude.

Chris was a good dude, too, and Ben's not sure what happened there.

Sure enough, Brody came strolling out of the back door of the club like he had all the time in the world -- not his stupid Seth/Josh walk -- and Ben started to feel impatient and annoyed. He tamped down on that shit; inappropriate response.

"Okay?" said Ben.

"Yeah," said Brody, and pulled his hand out of his pocket.

"Sweet," said Ben, and let Brody light up first.

They leaned against the wall of the club, passing the joint back and forth, and Ben imagined that over the smell of the weed -- the good shit this time, not like last time -- he could smell the ocean. Couldn't, of course; there was no sand in L.A. But when Brody handed him the joint, their eyes met and Brody nodded. Just a short inclination of his head, but Ben knew what it meant. They'd finish the joint, skip the next party, and crash at Brody's that night.

  



End file.
